The day I stepped out in a (counterfeit) Manchester United jersey, within the first few minutes, I got double that number of "Wow!" and "Nice shirt!" And I wasn't even out of the girls' room/corridor yet.

The boys' reactions were significantly bigger, and very telling of their football allegiances, as well as how well they know (or do not know) me. "Yen!!! Since when!"

Ben took it upon himself to outline three reasons to justify my appearance in the (powerful, as I discovered) shirt:

1. There are things about you I don't know.
2. You have a boyfriend I don't know about who has very diverse interests from yours.
3. You're really out of clothes.

To which on retrospect he added:

4. Standing in front of a carcinogenic barbecue pit really got to me: this is not happening.

The truth (as I knew it) was that I needed a red shirt (the brighter the better) to play the role of Traffic Light Red, and someone told me that Tse Hwei had one that fit me. Hence the tape recorder lines: "It's not mine, Tse Hwei's wan."

In the end the real reason was part of an elaborate trick hatched by the camp Fun Nite organiser herself. But I don't feel betrayed lah, Hwei. *grin*

One phone call,
One bombshell.
(Life is full of shocks and surprises.)

Ten thousand words, due one week's notice,
Candidature defense next week.
(You can do it, roomie!)

My ten to fifteen pages pales,
Discolours in comparison.
(Same deadline, the first of a string.)

Two postgrads permanently stationed in front of laptops,
The combined academic output rockets sky-high.
(Guess which room...)

Final few weeks of the semester,
Two disciplines, Third Sem and First Sem, respectively.
(Nod and How d'ye do.)

There's something about entering the hall together as a procession, that is not worth being late for.

I finally met, in person, the fellow L's whose names I always saw under/after my own in namelists at the faculty dean's office when collecting examination slips, results, and so forth.

I observed: Many people forgot to smile whilst on stage.
Dad observed: I was the one who forgot to stop smiling.

For the first time in the history of my mobile phone usage, my inbox was full and new incoming messages could not come in. (Thank you, :P)

There's something about waking up to a pretty little garden at your bedside. :)

I attended a total of 2 convocation ceremonies (including my own), 5 post-convocations, 1 grand celebration dinner (clashed head-on with an otherwise second dinner, unfortunately), and 3 photo shoots.

Many thanks to my current roomie for fitting up my robe the night before, Stephanie for make-up consultation & artistry, and Benjamin for everything photography.

Albums here, here, and here.

Much love to the gals (and one guy) who graduated with that B.A. in English Literature...

...As well as the roomies, college mates, PKVians, and others, who made up the rest of my undergraduate life.

She dreamt of this day.
Someone thought it'd be cute to take a picture of me in my dad's M.A. graduation hood and mortar board. Too bad I closed my eyes.

The great Michael William sits down beside me.

"Have you found love?"

"What is love?"

"Don't give me existential questions."

"You always tell me to get a life, not find love."

Genuine surprise in tea candles, 'cheesecake', and the swing ride of my life.
'Tis since known, I rarely let an empty swing pass me by.

Receding shoreline reveals delayed moisture line; it's the beach equalizer.
Nocturnal shoreline marked by luminous blue plankton.

Ever wonder what it's like to be a creature of the waves, riding in and out with the tide?
He just wonders what it's like to be a creature of light.

Lying on rocks like beached whales,
Turn my head, fix my eyes on the vertical horizon...and my mind on what lay beyond.

Thought at breakfast: Somewhere in the world, it's dinnertime.
Thought at dinner: If you drink too much limau panas, will you pickle your stomach?
Thence earned the title of Random Number Generator.

Sotong bakar and little bowls of laksa,
Ikan bakar and Ribena berry juice.

Secret mermaid cove, guerilla tunnels and crabs in a tidepool,
And that window into Never, Neverland.

Clutch a snorkel mask like an otter, kick-waves frothing in my ear,
What bliss to drift in the sea, fingertips trailing in the sand.